...there's nothing toβ [........he decides that he doesn't like that tone and shakes his head some more. fine. he can say a little bit.] At one point in that world, dreaming became nearly as lethal as staying awake had been.
[lethal because of the noctaere, but. technically speaking, that was a dream world, and nightmares could kill there. scary, scary, for those who worried too much.]
After being attacked while I dreamt [more than once at that], sleeping was difficult.
[there's actually more to it than that, but he's not sharing it with jack right now. he's keeping it very, very simple, shirking the specifics: what attacked and how frequently, what was going on at the time, the severity of the wounds caused, the state of the capital as a whole β nothing that he finds himself needing to elaborate.
though jack looking at the plush rabbit makes oswald glance at it and remember that that's why he got it: to wipe his nightmares, even if it only serves the purpose of silencing some of the screams. still he looks back in time to see jack hold out his arm; he reaches out with one hand then to slide his fingers over skin in something that's too close to a caress. i'm sorry and i should've noticed, careful not to edge his fingers too close to the stitches as he idly traces a circle around for no real reason.
he's quick to start dressing jack's wound though and gentle to start, fingers brushing over skin intentionally as he dives right into the wrapping, wrapping, wrapping. oswald communicates far better with touch and composition, he's found.]
no subject
[lethal because of the noctaere, but. technically speaking, that was a dream world, and nightmares could kill there. scary, scary, for those who worried too much.]
After being attacked while I dreamt [more than once at that], sleeping was difficult.
[there's actually more to it than that, but he's not sharing it with jack right now. he's keeping it very, very simple, shirking the specifics: what attacked and how frequently, what was going on at the time, the severity of the wounds caused, the state of the capital as a whole β nothing that he finds himself needing to elaborate.
though jack looking at the plush rabbit makes oswald glance at it and remember that that's why he got it: to wipe his nightmares, even if it only serves the purpose of silencing some of the screams. still he looks back in time to see jack hold out his arm; he reaches out with one hand then to slide his fingers over skin in something that's too close to a caress. i'm sorry and i should've noticed, careful not to edge his fingers too close to the stitches as he idly traces a circle around for no real reason.
he's quick to start dressing jack's wound though and gentle to start, fingers brushing over skin intentionally as he dives right into the wrapping, wrapping, wrapping. oswald communicates far better with touch and composition, he's found.]